Dares and Pranks
by CharlieCaller
Summary: After no wounded arrive for days, Hawkeye invents a dare game to keep the camp amused. Please r/r.


Disclaimer: The characters of that great TV masterpiece M*A*S*H belong to their respective companies, I am borrowing them for writing fan fiction, and I am not making a profit from them.  
  
Thanks to Tash for sending me the inspiration for this story!  
  
  
  
  
Dares and Pranks  
  
  
  
It was a moderate day in the 4077th M*A*S*H, in Korea. No wounded had arrived to the unit in five days, and with only one person in Post-Op, the staff had a lot of time on their hands. After the first few days of doing things and enjoying it, the personnel were beginning to feel the boredom.  
  
In the Swamp, the lack of activity was beginning to take its toll on the residents.  
  
"How about we throw a huge party?" Hawkeye Pierce suggested.  
  
"We did that three days ago, and there are still a few people who are recovering from that," Trapper John McIntyre reminded him. "How about a game of golf?"  
  
"We did that yesterday. Football?"  
  
"We can't," Trapper said regretfully. "The ball went through the door of Hot Lips' tent, and she won't give it back."  
  
"I really hate neighbours who won't give balls back," Hawkeye complained loudly. "It's downright rude!"  
  
"Oh, why can't you bums find something practical to do?" Frank Burns piped up.  
  
"If we found something worthwhile to do, we'd probably get recommended for a Section 8," Hawkeye told him. "What are you doing then, Frank?"  
  
"I," he began, "am putting all of my small change into piles, in order of both wealth and shininess."  
  
"Wow," Trapper said sarcastically. "I wish I had something that worthwhile to do."  
  
"This is the third time this week that I have done this," Frank admitted. "I always say that if a job is worth doing, then it is worth doing a lot."  
  
At that moment, Radar poked his head through the door of the Swamp. "Major Burns, sir," he began. "Problem with a patient in post-op. The one and only patient," he added.  
  
"We'll take it," Hawkeye and Trapper volunteered at the same time.  
  
"At least that way he might live," Hawkeye added.  
  
"He might be suicidal," Trapper suggested.  
  
"Oh ha ha, so funny," Frank grumbled as he left the Swamp to tend to the ailing person.  
  
The two who remained in the Swamp sat in silence for a long time, desperately trying to think of something to do. Suddenly Hawkeye snapped his fingers, making Trapper jump.  
  
"I've got it!" Hawkeye exclaimed.  
  
"Go what?"  
  
"I've got the answer to al our boredom worries," Hawkeye calmly told him.  
  
"So, tell it!"  
  
"Dare games." Trapper's eyes lit up as Hawkeye continued. "Think like this. One of us sets a dare, and the other does it without getting sent to Henry or something. So simple, a child could do it."  
  
"It's great. When do we start?"  
  
"How about now?"  
  
And so it began.  
  
  
  
Hawkeye and Trapper were sauntering around the compound, and drifting closer to the Nurses' Showers. Hawkeye explained his dare to Trapper.  
  
"This is it, nice and simple. You need to spend three hours in there, without being seen." He pointed to the Nurses' Showers.  
  
"Simple enough," Trapper replied.  
  
"As proof that you did it, you must remember the names of three nurses who use the showers. When three hours is up, I'll call you. Got it?"  
  
"I got it." With an acknowledging nod, Trapper crept over to the entrance of the showers, looked around sneakily, and then crept inside.  
  
Once inside, Trapper needed to find a place to hide. He saw a pile of dirty linen in the corner of the room. It had been used in the VIP tent, and had been put into the showers to be dealt with at some other time.  
  
Carefully, he arranged the linen over himself so that he was concealed, and so that he could see what was going on in the room.  
  
Outside the showers, Hawkeye sat, half reading a book, but mostly keeping an eye out for any nurses taking a shower. When two hours had passed, Hawkeye glanced up to see none other than Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan going into the showers.  
  
"It can't be," he thought to himself. "How will he survive this?" Inside the shower room, Trapper was thinking the same thing.   
  
Three hours passed, and Hawkeye strolled over to the showers. "Hey, Trap," he whispered. "Three hours is up."  
  
Moments later, Trapper emerged from the room. "You want the names?"  
  
"All part of the deal," Hawkeye reminded him.  
  
"Okay. Helen Baxter took a shower. Now, she is someone who I have overlooked, and someone I would love to get to know…"  
  
"Names, not a running commentary."  
  
"Okay, names. As I said, Helen Baxter used the showers, as did Colleen Price. And boy, did I have a tough time keeping my mouth shut when Hot Lips walked in!"  
  
"You and me both," Hawkeye laughed.  
  
"That image shall be imprinted in my mind and memory for quite a while," Trapper continued.  
  
"Spare the details, Trap. It's your turn to make a dare now."  
  
"I guess it is," Trapper replied. "Since mine was not so difficult, then yours won't be either. You know that skeleton in Henry's office? He deserves a little makeover. Find some nail polish, and give him twenty colourful phalanges."  
  
Hawkeye grinned. "Not bad, you learn fast."  
  
"After lunch, when Henry goes for a nap."  
  
Hawkeye had a thought. "How am I meant to get past Radar? That kid knows everything. You know, he probably knew what his mother looked like ten months before he was born."  
  
"He can't spend the whole afternoon in there. If he looks that way, then I'll create a little distraction for you," Trapper told him.  
  
  
  
The plan began. Radar left the office to find Colonel Blake, and Hawkeye, armed with a bottle of crimson nail polish, crept into the office to brighten up the skeleton. He had painted the last 'nail' of the skeleton when he heard Radar making his way back.  
  
Hawkeye dived into Radar's office, and flew from there through the doors of Post-Op. Usually, the beds of Post-Op would contain patients, but since no wounded had arrived in a week, and the last patient had been sent to Tokyo with a bad infection, the room was eerily empty.  
  
Hawkeye left through the far doors of Post-Op and strolled casually through the compound towards where Trapper stood.  
  
"Did you pull it off?" Trapper asked.  
  
"Henry's faithful, skeleton friend is now painted," Hawkeye confirmed. "I wonder what he'll think when he finds out."  
  
"Do you think he'll notice?"  
  
"Someone is bound to point it out, at sometime."  
  
"Shall we get something to eat?" Trapper asked.  
  
"I like the use of the word 'something' in that sentence," Hawkeye chuckled as they headed to the Mess Tent.  
  
  
  
The next day, there was still no chance of any wounded arriving, so Hawkeye and Trapper picked up their dare contest where they left off.  
  
"I do believe it is my turn," Hawkeye declared. "For this little trick, you will need a gurney, a Hawaiian shirt, and a willing volunteer. You are going to stand on a gurney, and the willing volunteer will push you across the compound. It will be like surfing, so that's where the shirt comes in."  
  
Trapper grinned. "Sounds good to me. I bet Klinger will be willing to volunteer, if we told him that there is some chance of getting out of the army."  
  
"Hey!" Hawkeye clapped his hands together. "I wonder if he still has that grass skirt and coconut bra he wore a couple of months ago. That would go great!"  
  
  
  
Outside Klinger's quarters: "Hey, Klinger," Trapper called as he knocked on the door. "You want to get out of the army, right?"  
  
Klinger was at the door in a flash. "That's what I put on my Christmas list last year," came the gruff reply as he invited in the captain into his room.  
  
"Let me explain something. It's been really boring around here lately, so Hawkeye and I started that dare game, to keep us amused. With me so far?" Klinger nodded. "Hawkeye's latest dare for me to do is to find a gurney, a Hawaiian shirt and someone to push the gurney across the compound, so it looks like I am surfing."  
  
Klinger was chuckling at the end. "So why come to me?"  
  
"Well, it might get you into trouble, and it's boring around here so we thought you'd enjoy the amusement, and the fact that we remembered you own a grass skirt and coconut bra."  
  
Klinger's eyes lit up. "Hey, you're right! I've still got them," he said, rummaging around in his wardrobe. "I'll do it. Give me ten minutes and then come back here."  
  
  
Ten minutes later, Trapper rolled the gurney outside Klinger's tent and knocked on the door. "Ready?"  
  
The man strolled out in his outfit, and Trapper laughed as he saw how much the man looked the part for the scenario that was about to take place. He had even found a flower for his hair, and a lei of flowers around his neck.  
  
"You look great," Trapper laughed. The people in the camp were beginning to give odd looks as they rolled the gurney table to a flat part of the yard. Hawkeye was at the other end, awaiting their arrival.  
  
Trapper stood on the gurney, in the stance of a surfer. "Go slowly to start with, okay?"  
  
Klinger started rolling the gurney, and soon brought it up to a fast pace. The crowd who watched cheered and applauded. In the distance, Majors Burns and Houlihan looked on in disgust.  
  
"So this is what they do for fun," Frank spat. "Make fools of themselves. And with an enlisted man!"  
  
"These are the low parts of the war," Margaret sighed.  
  
"Breaks almost every rule in the book, not to mention setting a bad example for the camp."  
  
"Something has got to be done!" Margaret declared.  
  
Frank agreed as they crept around the back of the Supply tent when no one was looking. Meanwhile, Trapper and Klinger were coming to the end of the road.  
  
"Hey, slow down!" Trapper shouted.  
  
"I can't," Klinger yelled back. "It's going too fast!"  
  
Hawkeye could see what was happening, and he quickly moved out of the way. As Trapper contemplated jumping off, one of the wheels struck a hole in the ground. Trapper was flung into the air, and Klinger was thrown over the table.  
  
Hawkeye, a spectator by this time, laughed along with the crowd as he strolled over to where the abrupt halt had taken place.  
  
"Hey, Trap, Klinger, that was an abrupt yet brilliant ending. You both okay?"  
  
Klinger looked up. "I'm great, but I think I might need a new coconut bra." He held up the item, which was now in three pieces.  
  
"I'll buy you two for that show," Hawkeye promised him, sniggering. "How about you, Trap? You took quite a dive there."  
  
Trapper opened his eyes. "Did I get drunk or do stars always fly around me?"  
  
Hawkeye laughed as he helped his friend to his feet. "Come on, lie down on the Swamp. I don't think you should have anything to drink tonight. To make up for it," he added, "I'll get drunk for the both of us."  
  
Hawkeye left Trapper at the Swamp, and went back outside to return the gurney. He decided to clean it first, because the patients would not be impressed by a muddy operating table.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, in the Swamp, Frank walked in as Trapper was lying on his cot and groaning about his head.  
  
"It serves you right," Frank snorted, preparing to shave.  
  
"I take it you watched the show then," Trapper mumbled, not opening his eyes.  
  
"Indeed I did, and I was disgusted. You'd have thought that a distinguished doctor such as yourself might have had something better to do than make a fool of yourself in front of the entire camp!"  
  
"I'd have thought that a disgraceful doctor such as yourself might have had something better to do than watch a distinguished doctor make a fool of himself in front of the entire camp," Trapper retaliated.  
  
Hawkeye chose that moment to enter the Swamp. "Looks like I missed something," he commented. "How's the head, Trap?"  
  
"Great," he grumbled.  
  
"He deserves every bit of it," Frank spat.  
  
"Hey," Hawkeye yelled at Frank, not seeing Trapper grimace at the loud noise. Hawkeye was now beginning to feel very guilty for setting up the dare for Trapper. "Shut up, Frank."  
  
"Is that is?" Frank scoffed. "Just, 'shut up?' Can't you do any better than that?" Frank was feeling good for having the upper hand at that point.  
  
"Go wash the flag." Frank decided to quit whilst he was ahead, and he stormed out.  
  
Before Hawkeye had a chance to apologise, Trapper began, "I have my retaliating dare for you. I thought of it whilst Ferret Face was lecturing me."  
  
"Are we still going with this?" Hawkeye asked in surprise. "I mean, I don't want to kill anyone or anything."  
  
"We're in a hospital, and a bored hospital at that. I'm still game if you are. But, let me warn you, this dare will not be easy."  
  
"I'm game. What's my task?"  
  
"Switch Henry's office around with Radar's office."  
  
"You're right. It won't be easy."  
  
"I'll help you out. I'll get them both out by giving them a game of golf."  
  
"Sounds good, but won't it take ages to switch two offices around?"  
  
"Well, leave all the stuff like filing cabinets. Just move Henry's desk, skeleton and booze cupboard, and move Radar's stuff where Henry's is. I have just decided that I will find someone else to play golf with them."  
  
"Any reason why?" Hawkeye asked.  
  
Trapper yawned. "Me and my head need about six years of sleep."  
  
"Well, Still," Hawkeye turned to the maker of drinks. "It's just you and me for now."  
  
  
  
The next day, it was organised that Father Mulcahy would have a game of golf with Henry, with Radar carrying the clubs.  
  
"It's a great day for a game, and the good Lord did gives us golf clubs," Hawkeye reminded the chaplain.  
  
"Yes, that is true," Father Mulcahy agreed. "Well, although I'm not the best golfer, I'll give it a shot."  
  
"You'll be great," Hawkeye gave his words of encouragement.  
  
So, as Henry, Father Mulcahy and Radar set off for their game, Hawkeye got to work re-organising the offices. It took an hour and a half, but eventually the two offices were switched.   
  
Trapper came in to admire the work. "Great job! I didn't think you could pull it off."  
  
"I think that we should disappear before the office owners appear again," Hawkeye suggested.  
  
  
  
It was barely an hour later that people realised the changes. Radar stormed into the Swamp.  
  
"I know you did it, and he does too. He's on the warpath; he's gone mad, up the wall! When he gets here…"  
  
"Henry?" Hawkeye guessed.  
  
"He hasn't seen it yet," Radar told them.  
  
"So who's on the warpath?" Trapper asked.  
  
"Major Burns. He came into my office, wanting to call his wife. I think he and Major Houlihan had an argument or something. Anyway, he went mad, and said it was all my fault!"  
  
"What's it to do with him?"  
  
"Yeah, the joke was meant to annoy you and Henry. Anyone else is just getting annoyed when they were uninvited. We planned on annoying Frank later."  
  
At that moment, Frank burst into the Swamp, with two MPs behind him.  
  
"Right," Frank hissed in rage. "Those two." He pointed blindly, and the two MPs proceeded to arrest Trapper and Radar.  
  
"Hey!" The young corporal protested.  
  
"Ah, no, not him, that one," Frank corrected, pointing to Hawkeye. "Apologies, Corporal."  
  
"Hmph!" Radar saluted, and then stormed off.  
  
"Captain Pierce, Captain McIntyre," Frank began. "You are under arrest!"  
  
"What's the charge?"  
  
"Misconduct. Insubordination. You name it, you've done it. You will be confined here, and only let out to use latrines, showers, and to tend to wounded. Got that?"  
  
"Loud and clear," they both chorused.  
  
Frank nodded to the guards, and they moved to the Still. Hawkeye and Trapper immediately moved in front of it.  
  
"Since when was that in the terms?" Hawkeye shot at him.  
  
"Like I'm gonna let you have that in here," Frank spat flippantly.  
  
"Over our dead bodies!" The guard showed them his gun, and the two automatically moved aside.  
  
  
  
Two hours later, Hawkeye was bored out of his mind. He and Trapper had played some checkers, but after Trapper had fallen asleep on the board, it was not as much fun.  
  
He decided to search the Swamp for something to do. Hawkeye looked under Frank's bed, and was mildly surprised to find some shovels there.  
  
"He's probably planning for emergency foxholes," Hawkeye thought. It was then that an idea suddenly struck him, and he had thought of a good way to get Frank back for arresting them.  
  
Hawkeye carefully moved Frank's cot and the belongings under it. He then drew a square where the cot had been, and started digging in the square. The noise awoke Trapper.  
  
"Hey, what are you doing?"  
  
"Giving Frank everything that he deserves," Hawkeye informed him. "I found a couple of shovels under his bed, and I plan to put them to good use."  
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
"It's not overly complicated. We dig a hole under Frank's bed. A seven-foot hole."  
  
"You've got to be kidding! That'll take us ages! What are we supposed to do with the dirt? And how do we plan on not waking up the guards?"  
  
"Calm down. Once we've dug the hole, which won't take too long since we have nothing else to do, we put Frank's bed back over it, and attach four ropes to it. After that, we watch Ferret Face like a hawk until he goes to sleep, and then we lower his cot ever so gently into the hole, and laugh when he wakes up."  
  
Trapper mulled the idea over in his head. "Well, I'm bored. Hand me a shovel."  
  
They got to work, and soon had a three-foot hole. They put the dirt in a far corner of the tent.  
  
"I'm beat," Hawkeye sighed as he put his shovel on the floor. "We must have been quiet to pull that off."  
  
"The guards aren't standing directly outside our door. They are watching us from afar, apparently."  
  
"Frank will be back soon. We had probably better put the cot back before he catches us."  
  
The cot was put back in the right place, and the ropes were attached to it so that it would not fall in the hole.  
  
"He'll never know a thing," Hawkeye promised. He was right, and the next day the pair finished digging the hole. After several hours, their plan was complete, and all they had to do was to wait for Frank to go to sleep.  
  
Frank arrived an hour later, but not for slumber. "You two are needed."  
  
"Casualties?"  
  
"Colonel Blake wants to see you."  
  
"You wanna take it, Hawk?" Trapper asked.  
  
"Both of you," Frank added. They both went reluctantly, hoping that Frank would not choose that moment to go to bed.  
  
  
  
"What is it, sir?" They asked when they got there.  
  
"Your wish is our command," Trapper added.  
  
"General Clayton is going to be here within the hour, so no wisecracks out of you until then. He was being driven about an hour from here, but his driver had some kind of fit, and crashed the jeep. The General is fine, but his sergeant needs treatment. You both get to operate."  
  
Both doctors digested the information, forgetting their prank for the time being. "Okay, we'll go and scrub," they said, leaving for Pre-Op.  
  
A little later, Hawkeye and Trapper were busy operating on the young sergeant. He had broken two ribs in the accident, and they needed to be sure that they had not punctured any lungs.  
  
"Not rusty, are we?" Hawkeye joked to Trapper.  
  
"Your fingers will grow back," Trapper assured him.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, General Clayton was skulking around the camp, looking for a certain Major. He found her tent, and knocked on it, only to find no answer. Frowning, he glanced around the compound, and spotted her nearby the Swamp, talking to a nurse.  
  
Clayton strutted over to Major Houlihan and patiently waited until she had finished talking to her.  
  
"Good afternoon, Major," he said politely, a spark in his eye. "Would you mind if we held a private conversation, in here?" he searched for the nearest free tent, and decided that the empty Swamp would do.  
  
The Major followed, feeling flattered. They had hands in hands, and sat heavily on the nearest bed, which was Frank's bed. They were shocked to find the cot, and themselves, drop several feet into the floor.  
  
"Aiiii!" Margaret screamed.  
  
Outside, Hawkeye and Trapper could hear the yell as they walked out of the O.R. "Hey, that's our trap!" They ran across the compound to the Swamp. Inside, they almost died laughing to find Margaret in the hole with General Clayton.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?" The General was furious.  
  
"You fell down a hole sir," Hawkeye told him as if the General was very stupid.  
  
"Yeah, Frank likes to dig random holes," Trapper added.  
  
"Well, I do not find this in the least bit funny. Get us out of here!"  
  
"But think of the privacy you'll get down there," Hawkeye protested.  
  
"Now!" Clayton roared.  
  
"Choppers, sirs," Radar called to them in the Swamp. He noticed the General in the hole, so he saluted and then left. This caused the two captains to laughed harder as they headed in the direction of the O.R.  
  
  
  
Hours later, when all the wounded had been stitched back together, Hawkeye and Trapper sat on a gurney each.  
  
"Something to do again. Pull pieces of a junkyard out of kids," Hawkeye yawned as he spoke.  
  
"I liked the boredom better, but we all knew that it couldn't last," Trapper sighed.  
  
Hawkeye's eyes lit up. "I do believe it's my go. I dare you to… put the gas mask over your face, and turn on the gas."  
  
Trapper obeyed, and put the mask over his mouth. "You turn the gas on," he said.  
  
Hawkeye turned on the tap, and in mere seconds Trapper was on the floor. Hawkeye laughed heartily as he lifted his friend onto the gurney and wheeled him into Henry's office, to be found by someone.  
  
"Hey, skeleton," he called to the bones. "Your nail polish is chipped." That was his departing comment as he left the room.  
  
  
The End 


End file.
